The Exile and The Unforgiven
by Chainsaw114
Summary: Riven was once the pride of the Noxian army, the poster girl that represented what every Noxian citizen should strive to be. Now she is alone, rejected by all, and forced to fend for herself in the putrid slums of Zaun. Still reeling from the trauma of her fallen comrades, her quitting her job as a strip club employee attracts the attention of a certain Ionian.


The Exiled and Unforgiven

Prologue

The magic that provided light for the room was shoddily cast, a dim glow that barely let any of the girls prepare for their own turn on stage. Some of them didn't need the light though, for they had their own magic. For them the scars lines, and excess fats removed themselves with a simple thought, and they slipped into their outfits comfortably. Everyone in the room was in motion, with all the girls either casting spells or trying out clothes, trying this look or that as the music outside reverberated through the walls.

There was a girl who sat directly beneath the light with her arms crossed. She made no motion of her own besides a slow, steady breathing. Her eyes were closed, and in her mind she remembers being clad in Noxian armor, marching with her comrades across the muddy fields of Ionia, or through the icy winds in the high mountains of Freljord. Together they fought under Noxus' name, every battle a test of power and strategy, each victory a testament to each warrior's strength and skill. She was a captain then. Those were the glory days, before her desertion. How far had she fallen now?

A high and wheezy voice called out from the doorway to the dressing room

"Riven, you're up!"

The girl sitting directly beneath the light opened her eyes and looked into the mirror in front of her. Through the reflection she saw the other girls in their animal themed leotards, all of them taking quick glances in her direction, watching for her reaction. Riven had only been working for the club for a few weeks, bringing drinks to customers. Already she became infamous for a few violent outbursts. Why they had her dancing tonight, she had no idea.

""Riven, the crowd is waiting for you. Chop chop!"

Riven checked her own appearance in the mirror. She was more muscular than the other girls, with broader shoulders, though somewhat short. The bangs of her silver hair were parted to one side, the back pinned upwards into a kind of wild ponytail. When she moved her head, the bunny ears headband bounced to match it. Even now she still felt exposed in her outfit, the tan skin of her lower back and shoulders laid bare. The leotard was too tight, the black one-piece squeezing her chest and stomach, making the act of breathing feel unnatural.

Riven sighed and got up out of her seat. She turned towards the doorway to see the owner of the club, an old woman with a sagging face and long nails. She walked past her, though as she walked she felt awkward in her red high-heels. Every step had to be carefully calculated lest she fall. Behind her the woman followed and spoke.

"Your attitude hasn't been getting the best attention with our customers. However, you're still a former champion to the Institute of War, so you've drawn one hell of a crowd. Do well here and maybe we'll fix that bad reputation. Maybe get some actual popularity, bring back a few regular customers. Remember, I've got a lot of gold riding on this."

Riven wasn't really listening. She couldn't help but think how she didn't want to be there, or never dreamed of ever having such a demeaning job. The music began to pound in her ears as she walked through the backstage, she clenched her fists as her head began to hurt, her heart beating due to a nervousness that Riven didn't want to admit. Riven stepped through the curtains onto the stage, a circular platform surrounded by all the tables in the club. The cheers and noise she heard from the hallway faded into silence as the audience noticed her entrance. The faces of the onlookers, some of them the victims of her outbursts, frowned and grimaced. Others sneered and began chuckling amongst themselves. She heard a few of them, each from different parts of the room.

"Well if it isn't the lonesome Noxian herself, in all her glory."

"You mean the one that started crying and ran in the middle of a fight?"

"Hah! Yeah, she's the one"

"That bitch broke my nose last time I was here."

The crowd grew silent again as the musicians backstage began to play a slow, rhythmic beat. Riven began to sway, her chest turning and leaning left and right, trying to match the music. She heard laughter from out in the crowed, a couple of jeers muffled under the noise of the instruments.

"She dances like a man, if he had one leg."

"The hell is this? Do something already!"

A spell caster from behind created pillars of flame behind her, and as he did so the music picked up, increasing its tempo. The flames sparkled and flashed, illuminating the faces of the crowed. Riven lost her rhythm, her movements now out of sync to the music. She began to freeze up, unable to react to what was going on around her. She began to breathe heavily, her mind blank except for the jeers and laughter of the crowd.

"Not so high and mighty now are you, Noxian bitch?"  
>"Geeze at least take it off already if you're not going to do anything."<p>

"Waste of time and money."

Riven began to feel dizzy. The room spun round and round, everything a blur. She couldn't hear what they were saying anymore, but the sound began to become deeper and slower, the laughter slowly becoming more like screams of pain and anguish. The faces of the people she hit became clear within the blurring, though the skin on their faces began to peel and bleed out from the tearing, revealing the faces of her former comrades. The room took on a greenish hue, and the music boomed in her ears like war drums. The smell of something burning filled her nostrils. The faces in front of her screamed out for her help as they contorted themselves, their skin boiling like water before melting off. Their cries became louder and louder, all of them calling out her name.

Riven turned from the crowd and walked away. Through the curtain, past the musicians who now watched her with puzzled expressions, through the backstage and into the hallway. She leaned her back to the wall and sat down with her arms crossed and her elbows to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She put her head down to cover herself as another girl walked by. She stayed there for several minutes, trying to clear her mind and regulate her breathing, though weeping silently despite herself. When she next peeked up she saw the owner standing in front of her. Riven immediately wiped her tears while her face was hidden and stood up, her face impassive and emotionless.

"That was pretty awful, but there are actually fewer complaints so far than I was expecting. Look, don't worry, you'll get used to it, and in no time at all you'll be leaving the crowd breathless and, hopefully, moneyless."

By then Riven had regained her composure, and when she spoke it kept the same scratchy, high-pitched, whispery quality. Now there was anger in her voice, a feeling of vindication as she clenched her fists again, her face almost a snarl.

"No...I will never do that again. I will not stand around and be judged like some animal."

She closed her eyes, her face becoming passive once more. The owner was unperturbed.

"You refuse to dance, yet putting you back as a server is out of the question"

"Why not? I'd be far more comfortable doing that than being up there."

"Because people started refusing to come here because of you. Need I remind you of that one time you broke the hand, elbow, and shoulder of one of our most loyal customers? All in the same limb no less!"

"He tried to touch me."

"That's what this place is for! That's what they do here! I would have fired you then and there had I not thought you could bring them back by being on stage. There are quite a few people who are interested in you, you know. It's not often we get beauty such as yourself from Noxus."

"What about security? It's pretty obvious I can fight. I'm the best at it in fact, it's something I enjoy."

"People come here to watch girls, not get beat up by them. Sorry Riven, you're gonna have to stick with this."

Riven shook her head, before staring back at the owner.

"No. I quit. I can't stand this place."

"You sure you want to do that? If I recall when I hired you, you were telling me how you couldn't find work anywhere else."

Riven kept quiet on that comment. It was true, after deserting the army she had traveled all across Valoran, living on the streets and in the wilderness. No matter where she went she couldn't find employment. Noxians ridiculed her for her for cowardice, and threatened to have her captured for treason. All other races held on to the belief that all Noxians were lying, murdering, pillagers, and outright refused to talk to her. Riven never thought their accusations were true. She and her troop weren't murderers, just fighters. It was war after all.

"I'll manage." She replied.

The owner of the club sighed and put her hands in her pocket, the sound of clinking copper coins were heard despite the music and cheering crowds in the club.

"Alright, well, you sure about leaving? Then I suppose you'll want your pay. I'll be honest, you weren't on stage for very long so I'm not going to give you much."

"Don't bother. I'll make do with what I have."

"Hmph, if that's how you wanna be. Here's my advice though. Why don't you return to Noxus? You're pretty famous as a Champion. Maybe whatever they'll do to you won't be so bad."

"I can't come back to Noxus. I have my reasons."

Riven walked away from the woman, through the dressing room, and into the woman's lockers. There, she retrieved her only other clothes besides the heels and leotard of her bunny outfit. They were her only possessions, tattered rags and broken pieces of armor, all worn down by time and travel. She changed into them. Brown sandals, purple armor that covered her stomach and thighs, with a white robe over body. Over her left shoulder was what remained of a brown cloak, now so torn and ripped that the length barely reached past her elbow.

The armor she still kept was now unpaired, the opposite pieces she abandoned due to rust and damage. A metal shin guard on her right leg, a steel shoulder pad on her left side, and a gauntlet for her right hand. She knelt down to the base of the locker to pick up her sword, a blade that had been shattered unevenly down the middle, leaving two spikes of asymmetrical length. The longer one spike being the length of her arm. She held the sword up and put her head to one of its flat sides, finding comfort in feeling the cold metal, and looking to its last remaining green and black runic symbol above the base. Her armor and her clothes were all remnants of her former glory, sentimental reminders of who she was.

Riven considered walking through the backdoor, but decided against it. She disgraced herself in front of those people, and now she wanted to show that wasn't afraid of them. She inserted her sword into a sheath she hung from her back, and proceeded towards the entrance to the club. She was somewhat surprised to find that nobody noticed her as she walked through the crowd, the girl dancing on stage so naturally garnering everyone's attention. There was one man who saw Riven and made his way to her. When she got closer they made eye contact, and he made a casual smile.

In the shadows Riven couldn't tell the exact details of the stranger, but he looked to be tall man with light skin and dressed almost entirely in blue. His hair was tied into a giant puffed up ponytail that somehow spiked itself to an upward angle behind him. He looked absolutely ridiculous. He held up a glass in front of her, filled with one of the alcoholic drinks from the bar.

"You look like you could use a sip of this. It's pretty strong, but easy to handle, at least for me anyway. By the way, uh, nice moves up there. Real graceful. Just work on your breathing. Oh, and from now on you're going to have to be a little light on your feet."

As he said the last sentence his eyes darted to group of large men staring at them from across the club. She recognized one of them to be the man whose arm she broke. She looked back at the stranger in blue, one eyebrow raised. There was a flash of light from the stage, and Riven could see the slanted eyes of an Ionian. Strange, she thought, what was an Ionian doing here of all places?

"So what are you? Some kind of dancing master?" She said.

"Something like that."

The man held up the glass a little higher, his eyes on hers as he kept a sort of laid-back posture. Riven smiled back, but lightly pushed the glass away.

"Thanks but no thanks. I don't take drinks from strangers."

"Suit yourself, but you may be in for a long night. You've got some diehard fans waiting for you outside."

Riven chuckled a bit, though not quite sure why. She continued walking, saying as she walked past him,

"We'll if they're so eager to see me, I guess I have to oblige."


End file.
